


Beneath our names

by flintrage



Category: Black Sails, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carpenter subtext, Carrying, Crossover, Gen, Names, No movies after CATWS ever happened, One Shot, Silver is a bossy shit, Silver is inexplicably in 2014 or whatever and they talk about names, Size Difference, Slightly antagonistic semi-friendship, Time Travel, and since Bucky's name is James..., anyway I wrote this for a friend, post-CATWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintrage/pseuds/flintrage
Summary: John Silver has apparently travelled to the future at some point postcanon - or perhaps he just can't die. Either way, he and the (former) Winter Soldier - now known as Barnes - seem to have found themselves in one another's lives. They barely know one another, but when Silver's crutch snaps, he lets Barnes carry him. They talk a little. There's some subtext.





	Beneath our names

"Drop me and I'll throttle you," said Silver. With his teeth gritted and his face twisted in irritation, Barnes could almost believe it wasn't an idle threat. Carrying him was like carrying a strangely-shaped block of concrete: the man was stiff and uncomfortable in his arms. Barnes could see his pulse where it thumped in his throat. Being carried like this must have been more unpleasant for him than other people.

"Understood," he said. Silver wasn't heavy, just tense. Barnes' pace never slowed. Every so often he shifted the weight a little, to relieve the pressure on his normal arm, and every time he did Silver's fingernails dug hard into his shoulders like he wanted to draw blood. "How did it break, anyway?"

"It's old. It was bound to splinter eventually, with me leaning on it all day."

"How old?"

Silver looked at him. Barnes shut his mouth, but only for a moment, because another thought had occurred to him. It was something to do with the way Silver had said it: it's old. Like he was talking about something more than just a piece of wood. Maybe the crutch had sentimental value to him. Barnes didn't know.

"Where did you--"

" _Ow_ , don't _jar_ me like that. If you're going to move me, be fucking gentle about it."

"Sorry. Where did you get it? The crutch."

Silver went quiet for a moment, but when he answered, his voice was light. "The same place anyone else would: a carpenter."

Barnes had the feeling he was lying, or partly, but he couldn't be sure. He also had the feeling that asking more questions would get him nowhere, and he wasn't interested enough to keep pushing. He kept walking, comfortable in the silence. The same could not be said for Silver, who drummed his fingers on Barnes' shoulder and seemed to be searching always for something else to say, like the swell of silence was too much for him.

"I never asked, but - Barnes isn't your first name, is it?"

"Not really."

"What the fuck does that mean? It either is or it isn't."

"It's complicated."

"Well - alright." Silver sighed through his nose. "Let's try again. Do you have a first name? A proper one?"

Barnes thought for a moment. "James," he said carefully. "But that's not what people call me."

Silver went still in his arms. "James," he said, laughing quietly. It wasn't a pleasant laugh and Barnes couldn't understand the wryness behind it. "Right." He glanced up. "But you just go by Barnes?"

"I just go by Barnes."

"Good. Right."

Silver went strangely quiet after that. Barnes thought about it for a while and then thinking about it made his head hurt, so he stopped and focused on getting his - whatever Silver was to him - home without either of them killing each other before then. He'd learned by now not to ask questions about Silver, though he seemed to have no problem asking questions about Barnes. It was fine, probably. Or it was what it was, and it didn't bother Barnes enough for him to do something about it. Some people talked about themselves and some people didn't, and some people - like Silver - talked about themselves but only in riddles and half-truths, and it wasn't Barnes' job to try and decipher them.

Whatever the name James meant to him, it wasn't his business and he wasn't going to bother prying. But he was careful, after that, to avoid mentioning it to him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! Please appreciate the 'carpenter' comment it's my favourite part of the fic (because, you know - Flint made that crutch no one can tell me otherwise).


End file.
